Please Sir I Want Some More
by Loki Palmer
Summary: Never would Harry Potter have imagined that six words could change his life so much ... HP/HG.


" **Please Sir I Want Some More** **"**

By Loki Palmer

 **Author's Note: Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. No doubt there have been a number of comparisons of the great Charles Dickens to J.K. Rowling – considering the way both write of the downtrodden of society – and so it gets a literature lover like myself thinking a bit … a dangerous proposition to any who know of my work … [crazed laughter].**

 **The title for this is taken from a famous line of Charles Dickens. No doubt you can guess which work it refers to … [smile].**

 **Chapter 1**

It was another peaceful morning in Little Whinging until Petunia Dursley opened her front door.

"VERNON!"

The scream woke up the baby in his crib, and his crying, coupled with Petunia's scream, brought Vernon running to the door.

"Petunia, what is a baby doing on our doorstep?"

 _What if the neighbors see him?_ she thought as she brought him inside.

"Petunia!"

"Vernon, we didn't want him waking the neighbors, now, do we?"

"No, I guess not, but how can we accept another baby? Does this look like an orphanage where somebody can dump an unwanted baby?"

"Oh, don't be silly, Vernon; there's a letter with the child ..." She opened the letter, read it, and looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes. _How should I feel at news like this?_ "My sister and brother-in-law are dead."

"I thought you said you didn't have a sister, Petunia, so why are you crying?"

"I may have resented her all my life, Vernon, but she was my sister all the same – I said that in the heat of my anger at her, and now, any chance I may have had to reconcile with her has gone!"

Vernon hugged her. He may not have enjoyed meeting the Potters during the Dursley wedding – he confessed to himself that his drunkenness didn't help make a good impression – but loath as he was to admit it, they were Family. He may have said something like, _Good riddance to such freaks, the world is better off without them_ , but he had no doubt Petunia would have slapped him for such an insensitive comment. _Say nothing but good of the dead, so the old saying goes. What does somebody say at a time like this, when members of his Family – unwelcome, good-for-nothing freaks, but members of his Family nonetheless – have departed this world for the Afterlife?_ He could not think of anything positive to say, so he kept his mouth shut until she had wracked all the sobbing out.

"So, the boy is –"

"– Our nephew, Vernon – Harry Potter."

Vernon raised his eyes upward. _Oy, why us?_ "I presume this letter is asking us to take care of him?" He sighed upon seeing her nod. _Why shouldn't he be in an orphanage? He may be my nephew by my marriage to Petunia, but do I look like I can feed another mouth? Diapers, food, and toys are not cheap …_

"What are we going to do, Vernon? Can we afford to keep him?"

He shook his head. "I do have an idea, though ..."

 **~PLEASE SIR I WANT SOME MORE~**

DING DONG!

The entrance to the Orphanage rang and the door opened to reveal a kind lady. "Good morning, sir. How may we help you?"

All she heard was the screech of a vehicle as it sped away. Looking down, she saw a baby with a note scrawled in haste:

"His name is Harry Potter, and he's your problem now!"

 **~PLEASE SIR I WANT SOME MORE~**

Thus it was that Harry Potter spent about some nine years in the Orphanage. Of all the orphans who resided there, he had one friend: Jack Dawkins. The police had placed young Jack in the orphanage after they had picked him up for stealing a loaf of bread, saying, "Think of this as a mercy from us, Jack, but we will be harder on you if we catch you stealing again, you hear?"

Jack smiled. "At least I won't starve here, good sirs."

"Oh, God forbid, Jack! You will have enough to keep a growing lad alive, don't you worry your head on that count."

When Harry heard this from Jack, he had to hold in a bitter laugh. _Enough to keep a growing lad alive – yeah, right!_

It is a physiological fact that as the human body grows, it will need more nourishment to keep running at an optimum level of efficiency. An economic fact said that the Orphanage could spend so much of its budget on food. Guess which fact won the debate?

Now the Orphanage didn't starve the orphans that lived therein … far from it! While society did not have a high opinion of orphans, a pile of dead orphans would be bad publicity for the Orphanage that the State entrusted to look after them. The Church, for Her part in such a situation, would punish the members of management with so much penance until Doomsday that they would think they were born on the lowest of the Purgatorial cliffs. Given this additional concern, the Orphanage gave the orphans enough food to stay alive, but no more.

Alas, Harry's appetite for knowledge kept his mind growing even as his stomach growled for more food than what the Orphanage rationed to him. This situation could not last forever, and one Christmas Eve, he said six words that would change his life:

"Please, sir, I want some more."

The chef looked at him in shock. "What?!"

"Excuse me, I'm sorry; am I making any sense? Is my voicebox even working here? Please, sir … I want some more!"

"You DARE ask for more than your allotted ration, you impudent whelp?"

"Impudent, am I? Yes, I bloody well say that I dare ask for more than my ration, because it BLOODY WELL ISN'T ENOUGH! Good Lord, am I even speaking English? Perhaps you would understand another language, am I right? ¡Por favor, Señor, me gustaría comer más! S'il vous plaît, Monsieur, je voudrais en manger plus! Bitte, mein Herr, ich möchte mehr essen! 请先生我想吃得多一点儿! 孤児院の料理人さん、ください、僕はもっと多くが食べたいです！ARE YOU UNDERSTANDING THE WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH, YOU GLUTTONOUS EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING?!"

The chef raised his ladle to strike, but it flew out of his hand to hit the wall behind him. Harry looked at him with glowing eyes.

"Time to eat up, Porky!"

Much to the chef's horror, the big pot of gruel upended on him.

"Oh, such a terrible waste of orphanage gruel! No matter, boys and girls … how about we cook Tubby for dinner?"

His anger at the Orphanage's stinginess caused the open fire to rise so much that it set the chef ablaze, and the Orphanage along with it.

"Jack, let's make like Oliver Twist and get the Dickens out of here!"

"Right behind you, Harry!"

It was mere seconds after the two escaped that they heard a loud BOOM! No one else in the Orphanage survived, for all they knew.

 **~PLEASE SIR I WANT SOME MORE~**

They both walked out a fair distance in the snow to reach a Church. Within, Mass was ending with a hymn:

"Silent night! Holy night!  
All is calm, all is bright ..."

 _Such destruction_ , thought Harry as the cold wind bit at their faces.

"Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child,  
Holy Infant so tender and mild ..."

Harry and Jack looked up at the statue of the Madonna, Her Holy Son held close to Her bosom. _Oh, that She could hold us close so we don't die in the cold! Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners …_

"Sleep in Heavenly Peace!  
Sleep in Heavenly Peace!"

 _Now and at the hour of our death. Amen._

"How much longer until the parishioners come out, Harry?"

"Soon, Jack, soon. Just hang on ..."

"We've been out here in the cold for so long, Harry."

"I'm sorry for burning up the Orphanage, Jack. I know that was our home to us ..."

"You couldn't help it, Harry … but in the end, the Orphanage is not our home."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been living on the streets for a while before I came to be at the Orphanage, so I'm used to them, but Harry … seeing as how God has seen it fit to … have us as friends … home is wherever the both of us may be ..."

"Save your strength, Jack. Don't you dare die on me, not now ..."

Jack smiled. "I don't plan to die … though the cold might scupper that plan, eh?"

Harry looked up to the Madonna. _Mother of God, help us!_ he thought.

Holding onto Jack, the last he saw before exhaustion took him was the figure of a chestnut-haired girl and her parents running towards them out of the Church …

 **Author's Note: Another interesting start. Read and review! For the record, there is a particular character I was thinking of when I was writing Harry's angry tirade – can anybody guess who it is?**

 **Smiles and laughter,**

 **Loki Palmer**

 **P.S.,**

 **I will also be engaging in NaNoWriMo for November 2015, so don't be surprised if I seem incommunicado for the time period. I'm on there under the same pseudonym as Fanfiction dot net. Just thought I would give you, my fans, some fair warning … [smile].**


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